The Humbling River
by Lanalin
Summary: Natalie Brooks is a registered nurse from Chicago. Returning from work one night, she finds herself the victim of an act of senseless violence and wakes to find herself in a world at war. Terrified and unable to return to her former life and struggling to overcome her trauma, Natalie volunteers her skills as a healer to aid the Inquisition.
1. Chapter 1

The stinging ache in her feet radiated up her calves as Natalie trudged home slowly, her jute sack of groceries slung over her shoulder and sweat dripping down her forehead in the stifling July air. The Midwest had been under a severe heat warning for the past 3 days, and the nights were just as unbearably humid and disgusting as the days. The weight of 11 hours of work at the hospital pressed down on her, suffusing her every step with weariness. The weight of the teenage girl who had died on her watch today pressed on her mind in a similar fashion.

Eight years. Eight years she had been a nurse, and the loss of a patient never ceased to take her breath away. Subjectively, she knew at this point that there were cases where there was nothing she could do. Nothing the doctors could do. Humans were fragile creatures, prone to illness and injury and their own folly. Sometimes it was a mercy to see them pass into a peaceful death. An elderly patient could slip away after a long illness, ensconced in the warm embrace of their family. The peace on a face so recently twisted in pain a ray of sunshine through the storm clouds of grief. A person could walk away knowing that their beloved family member was gone on to a better place, that the months of uncertainty were over, and they would be in pain no longer. Bittersweet relief.

Then there were the days like today. Days where a 15-year-old girl was wheeled into the ER after her asshole boyfriend had punched her in the stomach until she lost the baby she was carrying. Days where she watched a young life taken away in a wash of blood. Days where she stood helpless as drug addictions, and poverty, and senseless violence tore people out of this world and carried them into the next.

Natalie gave her head a forceful shake, trying to dislodge the painful images burned into the backs of her eyelids. Too many hours worked. Too little sleep. Too many tears shed. Too many overnight shifts and too many cups of shitty coffee to stave off the bone deep fatigue she could never seem to sleep off. She could feel her grasp on her own mind wearing dangerously thin and see every one of her 29 years in the dark under eye circles on her face.

Shoulder muscles wound harder than steel shifted under the rough straps of the bag as she shifted it, trying to ease the pinch and rub as she walked. She resented the empty fridge in her apartment for forcing this late night trip on her way home from work. Nothing sounded better right now than the cool sheets of her king sized bed. The urge to crawl beneath the covers and resurface for air sometime next month was almost too tempting to resist.

A lone car blew past her, the loud bass vibrating her and echoing between the buildings lining the deserted street. The artificial light of the street lamps left deep, harsh shadows on the pavement. Sharp edges of dark and light that grated across her frayed nerves. The heaviness of the humid summer air pressed around her, oppressive in its relentlessness.

Natalie had lived in Chicago nearly her entire life. The hurried pace of life in the city suited her often distracted brain. She had grown up in the outer suburbs before leaving to go to college in Boston. The change from subdivisions and strip malls to historic neighborhoods and a walkable lifestyle had proved too tempting to resist when she moved back home to put her nursing degree to good use. Her little studio apartment in the old Art deco building had a soul and character, and she adored it even though it cost three times what an apartment in the suburbs would.

As she reached the door to her building, she fumbled for her keys, digging for them deep in the pockets of her scrub pants as she tried to juggle her bags. A sudden movement caught in her peripheral vision. She turned her head, her hand tensing around her keys. All of a sudden, she felt a vise close over her mouth and nose and an iron bar clamp around her middle. It drug her back into the shadows just outside the pool of light create by the street lamp just beside the door.

Natalie struggled against the hands holding her back, tears springing to her eyes. Her feet scrambled for purchase to stop herself from being drug deeper into the shadows. The grip around her head and stomach only tightened, making it hard to catch her breath. She tried to jab her elbow back into her assailants side, but her arms were too securely pinned. Raising her foot, she brought down her heel on the person's shoe. She heard a satisfying crunch as her weight connected with the delicate bones on the top of their foot. A grunt of pain whooshed past her ear as they doubled over, bending her forwards with their sudden weight against her back. Natalie used the opportunity to whip her head backwards into theirs.

A burst of pain radiated across the back of her head as bone met bone, and another across her cheek as she was spun and a fist connected with her face. Stars exploded in her vision as the blood rushed to her head. Her arm met the concrete sidewalk with a sickening thud as her purse and groceries went flying, scattering across the sidewalk.

"Bitch!" A male voice came muffled from beneath a dark hoodie.

Pain exploded along her rib cage. She couldn't breathe. What had just happened? She felt herself curl into a ball as his foot connected with her side a second time. Another explosion of pain and a crunch of bone as her ribs gave way under his boot. Her voice came out as a gurgle as she tried to scream.

Natalie caught a glimpse of pale skin and dark stubble on his chin as he rolled her onto her back. The shifting her ribs against each other scraped her chest raw, stealing her breath and voice. All she could manage was a deep, wet groan.

The jingle of coins against the ground pulled her conscious enough to tell her that her assailant was going through her purse. Rage burbled up inside her in a tidal wave of red. How dare this asshole do this to her, all for her phone and a couple bucks? How DARE he?!

Fighting back the haze of black around the edges of her vision, Natalie mustered up all her anger and spit in his face as her was focused on her wallet in his hand.

"Fuck you, lowlife." Her words came out as a strained gasp as the pain in her ribs seared through her.

She heard a loud explosion and saw a flash of light before a spear of burning pain tore through her chest. The blackness narrowed her vision down into the smallest points of light. The frantic patter of retreating feet sounded miles away as her consciousness tunneled down deep into her brain. The world moved slowly as she felt the burble of liquid fill her lung and watched one of her newly bought apples roll slowly away, through the circle of light and into the shadows.

A rumble of thunder rattled her bones before a flash of green lightning tore across the sky, and then… silence.


	2. Chapter 2

A warm cloud pillowed her body. She could feel it cushion her as she drifted softly in the waves. Weightless. Natalie let her mind drift into the perfect silence, stretching herself towards the bright, warm sunlight streaming in above her. She could feel the comforting warmth on her face as she smiled and reached out her arms languorously toward it. But her arms did not obey like they should.

Her body felt heavy and her limbs moved as if through deep sand. She forced herself upright, but she could feel the pull of invisible threads holding her to the ground. A sliver of apprehension wormed its way into her brain. Why couldn't she move her body properly? Why did she feel like she was swimming through honey? Why was everything dark blurs and light? Why couldn't she see anything?

Fear spiked in her gut, leaving a sick feeling. This Gulliver didn't want to make this trip anymore. Gulliver was getting off this fucking island.

She clawed her way toward the light, feeling the ties snap and release as she pulled away from the once comforting cloud she lay upon. The warmth on her face burned hotter as the light intensified. Natalie reached toward it, pulling her heavy legs behind her as she inched forward. Sweat began to run down her face and in between her breasts as the heat beat at her skin, leaving it tight and dry.

She pulled herself along for what seemed like hours. The light grew brighter and brighter until her fingers reached some sort of ledge above her, the first real handhold she had found. Grasping with both hands, she took a deep breath and mustered what strength remained in her exhausted and overheated muscles and heaved herself over a sheer ledge into total darkness.

"The fever has broken, but her body has still been through a great deal of trauma. She needs more time to recover." The rich, male voice wrapped around Natalie's eardrums.

"It's been eight days! Are you certain she will recover? She hasn't so much as opened her eyes since we found her." Another male voice, this one slightly rougher than the first.

"She will, Commander. Her body heals. Her mind just needs to catch up." The voice grew farther away as it continued and she could hear the faint creaking of floorboards and the continued murmur of distant conversation.

Natalie tried to open her eyelids. Never before had her eyelashes been quite so heavy. _Huh, when did that happen?_ After an immense effort, she managed to raise them just enough to let some light in. She blinked a couple of times, slowly clearing the haze from her disused eyes. _Eight days? I've been asleep for eight days?_

Natalie was struck by the smell of wood smoke and leather in the room. _Wood smoke_ _? What kind of hospital has a fireplace?_ Her tired brain muddled over this fact as she willed her eyes to open so she could see where the hell she was. Nothing seemed to respond the way it should. Her eyelids continued to creep slowly upward as she became aware of just how cramped her arms and legs felt. Muscles were locked fast into knots.

She spread her will into her extremities, hoping to convince them to stretch the disused tissues and ease the dull aches. Slowly, everything began to respond. She felt her toes twitch, and then her foot, and then the rest of her leg muscles release like a slinky. A deep, satisfied groan rolled from her throat as she felt the stiff limbs release.

A rustle of sudden movement to her bedside startled her lazy eyes open. "Maker's Breath! She's awake!"

A blonde man with sparkling amber eyes stood at her beside, a curious look of shock written plainly across his handsome features. A thick fur collar lie around his shoulders and covered the upper portion of a red cloak and a set of shining armor. Natalie could hear the rush of footsteps behind him as a woman in a red and white dress rushed in and knelt by her bedside. Her skin was deep brown, and she wore the strangest tall hat on her head. _What on Earth…?_

"Hello, my dear. Welcome back to us." The words were said in a distinctly French accent and accompanied by a warm smile. "I am so glad you are awake."

Natalie blinked as she took in the people in front of her and then registered the room behind them. She lay in some kind of cabin. Wooden walls and ceiling enclosed her as a fire crackled merrily in the stone hearth. Her fingertips met a scratchy woven blanket, presumably wool, dyed in a deep green. A rack near the door held a bow and a sword.

Confusion blanketed her mind. _What the fuck is going on?_ She had never seen anywhere that looked like this, or people dressed quite like the two in front of her. Was this a dream? The last thing she remembered, she was walking to her apartment after work….

"Where am I?" Her voice sounded tired and hoarse.

"The town is called Haven, my dear." The woman's soothing voice calmed her nerves a fraction. "I am Mother Giselle. We have been treating your injuries for the past week."

Natalie shook her head, trying to remember what had happened to her. "How did I get here?"

They blonde man's face broke into a sympathetic smile. "We found you laying in the snow, gravely wounded. Some of our associates brought you back here for healing."

Wounded? Her exhausted brain picked over her memories. The dead patient. Grocery shopping. Walking home in the dark…. A hand over her mouth. A searing pain in her chest. Thunder and lightning. But how had she gotten here? Why wasn't she in Chicago where she belonged? And snow? It was July!

"I… I don't understand."

Mother Giselle laid a cool hand on her brow. "You have had a high fever for many days, child. It took the expertise of myself and one of our mages to bring it down. There was also damage to your ribs and chest as well as a considerable amount of blood loss. You are lucky to be alive." She smoothed Natalie's hair away from her brow. "It is normal to feel confused after such an ordeal."

 _Mage? What the HELL?_

Panic welled up in her throat. "But where am I? I don't know where I am. I need to go home!" Her voice rose an octave with each statement as her eyes rolled around the room, searching for an exit. She started to swing her legs over the edge of the cot, intending to move past the woman next to her.

"Stop! You are still injured!" The blonde man pressed a hand to her shoulder, pushing her body back down into the mattress. "Solas!" He called over his shoulder.

The door opened to a tall, bald man in green woolen garb. Natalie struggled against the restraining hand. "Let me go!"

The bald man, whom she assumed was named Solas, moved toward the bed. His eyes were pale blue and bored into her. Long pointed ears stuck out from either side of his head. _Wait… what? Pointed ears?_ Natalie felt the fear and panic well up again. She had to get out of whatever this fucked up dream was. She frantically tried to move out from under the grip on her shoulder.

"Let me go!" She bellowed, her voice still raspy.

A long, pale hand came down against her face as a the rich voice she remembered simply said "Sleep."

And she did.

Natalie awoke some time later to dim light and a still crackling fire. At first glance, the cabin was empty. The chair next to her bed that had previously held Mother Giselle was vacant, and the air was quiet. She rolled her head and felt the satisfying pop of her vertebrae and the rush of relief in her stiff neck.

Slowly, she braced an arm against the bed and hoisted herself into a sitting position. A twinge of pain in her chest accompanied an unfamiliar pull of skin. She moved aside the plain, brown robe she wore and felt the round, smooth scar tissue on the left side of her chest. _A bullet_ _hole_ _. I got shot._ She closed her eyes as her fingers spasmed against the new scar. A twinge of some undefinable emotion pulled at her mind. Fear? Sadness? Shock? She found it impossible to process the emotions and define what they were.

"I would go slowly, if I were you."

Velvety tones smoothed over her brain. Natalie looked up, surprised, to find the bald man sitting reclined in a chair next to a small table, a book perched on his knee. His piercing eyes studied her for several long moments, before he shut the book and moved across the room. His movements were graceful as he folded his long limbs into the wooden chair beside her bed.

"I don't think I'm capable of going any faster right now. I feel like I got hit by a bus." She croaked.

Blue eyes peered at her assessingly. "A bus?"

With the curious way he was looking at her, Natalie realized he likely didn't know what a bus was. She didn't know where Haven was supposed to be, but it obviously wasn't in Chicago… and maybe not even in 2018. "Um… it a large thing that people use for transportation where I'm from."

"And just where are you from?"

She thought for a moment about the best way to answer that question. "Chicago."

"And where is Chicago located? I have never heard of that town. Is it in Thedas?"

Her head spun a little at the question. "Thedas? No. It's in Illinois, in the United States."

His face registered his intense curiosity, colored with a healthy dose of doubt. A great feeling of vertigo washed over her. He had no idea what she was talking about. "I really wish someone would tell me where the hell I am and what the fuck is going on." She snapped.

"Did Mother Giselle not tell you earlier? You are in Haven, current home to the Inquisition."

"Inquisition?" She could be wrong, but Natalie was pretty sure explanations were supposed to clear things up, not make them more confusing.

"Yes, The Inquisition. Lead by the Herald of Andraste, and tasked with sealing the Breach."

"Breach?" She asked, dumbly.

His expression was incredulous. "The big one. In the sky. That is spitting out demons."

 _DEMONS?_ She gave up. She had no idea what the hell he was on about, and did not have enough brain power to muddle it out now. "Ah… yeah, _that_ Breach."

The corner of his mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Yes, that Breach."

The pair of them simply stared at one another for several long moments. Natalie took in the bald head and pointed ears she had noted earlier. His features were long and chiseled, his eyes piercingly blue and his lips full. Soft brown wings of brows slashed across his face. He was tall, but widely built. His shoulders broad and strong. His posture was seemingly relaxed, but she could tell that he was wound tight and ready to react if she did something crazy. His features all added up to something surprisingly pleasing to her eye, despite the mindfuck of those long, pointed ears. _I wonder how pissed he'd be if I call him_ _Legolas_ _?_

He was the first to break the silence. "I am Solas. Despite our earlier encounter, I am pleased to see you awake. When we found you, we were afraid you would die before we could reach help."

"Natalie. My name is Natalie."

"Well, Natalie, do you know how you came to be bleeding out in the snow? Because make no mistake, you came extremely close to death."

Natalie felt her brow crinkle as she considered what to tell him. It was obvious to her, at this point, that she was not in freaking Kansas anymore. Any second now, a tap dancing tin man was going to come out of the woodwork. The cabin, the people, their strange dress, the fact that is was apparently snowing in July, the freaking _sword_ in the corner of the room. This had to be some kind of fever dream. _Where the hell is Thedas?_

"I…" the words struggled to leave her mouth. "I don't really remember. I was walking home, and a man attacked me. I tried to fight him off, but he hurt me. And then he took my wallet and ran away. I must have lost consciousness, and then woke up here."

Solas studied her face like she was a puzzle he wanted to solve. "I see. That is an unfortunate turn of events."

His casual tone of voice grated on her frayed nerves. _Unfortunate?_ She made the split second decision to change the subject. "Can… can you tell me… why are your ears pointed? Are you an elf?" The first words that came to mind were also _unfortunate._

Solas rocked back, his face displaying shock before falling back into his thoughtful mask. "I am elven."

Natalie could tell she had offended him with her question. "I'm sorry. I don't think I have seen an elf in person before."

He looked momentarily bewildered, like she was some kind of alien from another planet. Natalie figured he wasn't too far off base. "You've never seen an elf." He replied, flatly.

She scrambled for an answer. "Of course not. They only exist in stories." She knew it was a stupid thing to say as soon as she said it. She was staring at a damn elf.

"I assure you, I am no story."

Natalie felt her face heat. "Of course, you're not."

Solas studied her a moment longer before heaving a sigh and rising from the chair. "I would advise you to get some more rest. Your body is still recovering from the blood loss and you will likely feel weak for a few more days."

Natalie nodded, not particularly wanting to continue their awkward exchange. He seemed similarly inclined, as he moved toward the door. With a nod in her direction, he left her alone in the cabin as she settled back down into the bed to sleep. Her brain couldn't handle any more right now.


	3. Chapter 3

Natalie woke some hours later to sun streaming through a small window over the table she had seen last night. The fire was still burning, but lower than the previous night. In the light of day, the cottage was small but homey. In addition to her bed and the table and chairs, a wooden chest banded in iron sat against the far wall and a wardrobe stood at the end of the bed. Waking for the first time alone, she sighed as she ran her hands over her face, scrubbing at the sleep clouding her eyes.

There was no telling how long she had actually been asleep. She had heard them say eight days the first time she had awoken, but she had no frame of reference for how long it had been since then. She only knew that it had been dark during her conversation with Solas, and then now day again.

She sat herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Bare feet met a worn, wooden floor as she slowly shifted her weight. A twinge of pain across her ribs stopped her momentarily, as she waited to see if more would follow. Her wound seemed stable, with less pain than the last time she had woken.

Moving aside her clothing, she peered at the scar blemishing her breast in the light of day. The entry wound was small and round, puckered with pink scar tissue. She traced the edges with her fingertips thoughtfully. Her brain still refused to process the fact that she had been shot. Grateful that she had been unconscious through the entire ordeal, she carefully ran her fingers along her ribs to check for lingering pain. Finding nothing more than a couple spots of tenderness, Natalie couldn't help but feel like she was missing something.

The door opened just as she had gathered the resolve to stand. A young woman with dark red hair and a wide, smiling face entered holding a stack of cloth.

"My lady! Please, sit before you harm yourself!" She rushed to Natalie's side.

Natalie waved her away impatiently. "I appreciate the concern, but I need to stretch my legs more than I need to rest my wounds." Natalie shifted her weight from foot to foot, testing to see if there would be more pain. To her surprise, she felt fairly good considering all that had happened to her.

"Please, let me assist you." The girl placed a helping hand on Natalie's back.

"I'm fine, I promise. I barely feel any pain now." There was no way that she should be fully healed with minimal pain from a gunshot wound in a week. She surmised that she must have slept far longer than she thought. A relatively clean wound in an extremity from a 9mm round still took weeks to heal properly. She had taken a shot in the chest from only a couple feet away, and then had a fever which meant her wound had gotten infected. She should be dead. How was she alive, let alone up and walking around?

The woman looked at her with deep brown eyes. "Lady, I am Maryella. Lady Josephine requested I come help you bathe and bring you some clean clothing. Mother Giselle informed them last evening that you had awoken. They wish to speak with you."

Natalie sighed. "Thank you, Maryella. But please don't call me lady. I'm just… Natalie."

Maryella nodded her head briefly and moved to the door, gesturing to someone outside. Natalie sat on the edge of the bed as a wooden tub was brought in and filled with buckets of steaming water by a couple of burly, bearded men. They didn't not acknowledge her, only went about their business and left again without a word.

"Please, Natalie. Let me assist you. I am sure you will feel better after you are clean."

Maryella helped her remove her clothing and get into the tub. The water was only hip deep but the heat seeped into her disused muscles and she felt herself relax into it with a groan. The serving woman's hands were impersonal as she helped Natalie wash away the days of injury and illness from her skin. She left the tub feeling better than she had in quite a while.

In quick order, she found herself garbed in brown woolen leggings and a pale green tunic. A beautiful wool coat of deep forest green was added and cinched with a leather belt. Tall leather boots and soft woolen gloves completed the ensemble. Natalie was surprised at the comfortable simplicity of the garments, although she was heartily wishing for some underwire right about now. The linen wrappings holding her breasts in place felt horribly inadequate, and she crossed her arms across her chest as Maryella pulled her long, dark brown hair into a simple braid.

"Please follow me." Maryella moved back to the doorway and opened it, gesturing for Natalie to precede her.

Feeling a flutter of anxiety well up into her stomach, Natalie stepped gingerly out of the doorway into what she could only describe as a scene from a fantasy novel. A small village of similar wooden cabins sat around her, blanketed in a layer of snow that had been churned by the passage of countless feet. Smoke rose from the chimneys and she could hear the nearby clash of metal on metal. Men and women dressed in armor milled about, carrying supplies and hurrying about their tasks.

Where had her brain come up with a delusion this detailed? I have to stop binge watching Game of Thrones late at night.

She gazed about in wonder. A flash of green caught her eye in the distance and she turned to see a massive, gaping maw tearing across the clear winter sky. The whirlwind of clouds roiled angrily around a field of floating boulders. Virulent green lighting crackled and sizzled around the edges.

"Holy mother of god…." Natalie stood with her mouth gaping at the sight before her.

"The Breach. Lovely, isn't it?" A gruff voice came from her right, and she turned to find a short, stocky man dressed in a flamboyant red coat that exposed a great expanse of hairy chest. With a start, she realized he was only half her height. A… dwarf? Dwarves, elves… next I'm going to meet a freaking unicorn.

"I know I'm handsome, but you don't need to stare."

Natalie shook her head to clear it. "I'm so sorry. That was really rude of me."

He chuckled. "Apology accepted. Besides, I can never be angry about someone being tongue-tied by my obvious good looks and charm. Varric Tethras, storyteller, and dashingly handsome rogue."

Natalie couldn't help but grin at him. "Natalie Brooks. Uh… human… and yeah." She felt a blush creep over her cheeks as she laughed awkwardly.

Luckily, he seemed to find her embarrassment vastly amusing. He laughed heartily and clapped her on the arm. "Nice to meet you, Natalie. Glad you finally woke up and decided to join us."

"I am pretty happy to be awake, myself."

Maryella interrupted their conversation tentatively. "I apologize, Master Tethras. Miss Natalie has a meeting she is required to attend."

Varric smirked knowingly. "A meeting, eh? Sure it's not an interrogation? Go on then." He smiled at Natalie, his eyes twinkling. "And I will see you later." With that, he swaggered off towards a nearby campfire.

Natalie silently followed Maryella across the town and into a huge stone chapel. They crossed the dimly lit room until she could hear raised voices from behind a thick, wooden door.

"You want me to walk into a pit of vipers, and you ask me that?"

"They're not a vipers just because they like to hiss."

"I will go with him. Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them."

"But why? This is nothing but a—"

"What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."

Maryella knocked on the door, and a gruff voice bid them to enter. Natalie found herself in a dim room where several people stood around a large table covered in maps and tiny figurines. The blonde man from the previous day, along with a tall woman in armor with short, black hair, a small redhead with a deep purple hood covering her head, a woman with deep tan skin and a loud golden and blue outfit, and a stunningly handsome elven man with a shock of long, white hair and black tattoos of tree branches across his cheekbones and forehead.

"Lady Josephine, I have brought Miss Natalie, at your request."

The lovely dark skinned woman smiled. "Thank you, Maryella. You can go on about your normal duties."

Maryella quickly curtsied and left, closing the door behind her.

The woman approached her quickly, pulling a chair over to her. "Please, sit. I know you are only just recovered."

Natalie sat down, gratefully. Her side aching from the trek across the settlement.

"I am Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador for the Inquisition. I believe you met Commander Cullen Rutherford last night." She gestured to the blonde man behind her.

Natalie nodded, remembering her run in with him. "It's nice to be actually introduced."

Cullen looked somewhat sheepish, no doubt remembering their less than peaceful interaction. "Also, we have Leliana, Left Hand to the late Divine Justinia," the redhead "and Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast." Natalie assumed Josephine meant the tall, dark-haired woman with the stern look on her face who was currently glaring at her.

"And finally, Haleir Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste." The elven man inclined his head at her, his striking green eyes shining with a camaraderie she didn't quite understand. Of course, she didn't understand any of this, and she was too exhausted to question it.

Natalie wet her lips with her tongue, her throat feeling suddenly dry. They certainly were an… intimidating group of people. "I'm Natalie Brooks."

Cassandra approached her forcefully. "What exactly were you doing in the middle of nowhere near a Fade rift?"

The Herald stepped in front of Cassandra, partially blocking her. "Cassandra, we found her bleeding out and near death. Is it truly necessary to assume everyone is a saboteur?"

"There are no settlements for miles where she was found. She was not dressed for travel in this weather, and possessed no weapon. There was no apparent reason for her to be where you discovered her."

"I don't know." Natalie interrupted their exchange.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" This was from Cullen, on the other side of the table.

"I mean, I don't know." Natalie could feel the heat of anger creeping up the back of her neck. "I was walking home, some guy attacked me, and then I woke up here. That's all I know."

Haleir's eyes softened. "It's astounding how familiar that seems."

Brow crinkling in confusion, she stared into his eyes waiting for him to elaborate. She was disappointed.

"Solas has informed us that you claim to be from a place none of us have heard of." The softly accented voice came from Leliana.

"Claim?" Natalie stared at her, feeling anger reaching it's fingers into her skull. "I don't claim to be from anywhere. I am."

Assessing blue eyes bored into her. "I see."

"You obviously don't." Her voice lashed out. "Look, I appreciate the medical attention you have given me. But I don't know where Thedas is. I've never heard of it either. It's pretty damn obvious that i'm a long way from home. I'd just like to go back. Thanks."

Leliana moved silently across the room to her and leaned against the table in front of her, just inches away. "Solas examined you as you were unconscious. He has… unique talents. It is his belief that the Rift you were found near pulled you from your world into this one."

A different… a different world?

"We do not yet know if we can return you."

A black haze swallowed the edges of her vision as her mind reeled with this new information. This had to be a dream. It had to be. Sucked through a rift? She had a vague memory of thunder and green lightning just before everything had gone dark. The same green as the Breach.

"We will do what we can to find a way to send you home, but we have somewhat more pressing matters." Cassandra's brown eyes pierced through her fog. "I'm sure you saw the Breach in the sky. We're fighting a war against it and legions of demons that keep pouring from it."

Natalie nodded dumbly. She did understand, but it didn't meant she had to be happy about it. Besides, she was sure she would wake up in her own bed before too long anyway.

"So what am I supposed to do until that happens, just… take a nap? Read a book? Take up underwater basket weaving?" There was no way she was going to twiddle her thumbs and wait for someone else to give her something to do. Long hours were what she was used to and she would lose her damn mind sitting around doing nothing.

The four advisors and the Herald shared an unreadable look for several moments before Cullen responded. "You were only recently wounded. Don't you think it…"

"I feel fine. I'm used to being busy." She rose from the chair. "I'm a nurse." Puzzled looks made her rethink her phrasing. What would they call it here…. healer? Yeah, probably healer. That sounds medieval-y. "A healer. I work in emergency medicine, but I have experience in midwifery too."

"You're a healer?" Don't sound so shocked, Blondie.

Natalie nodded. "Yes, I am."

Cullen studied her for a long moment. "Very well. You can report to Mother Giselle tomorrow."

With a triumphant smile, Natalie inclined her head. "Absolutely. If that's all…?"

"You are free to go. Maryella will escort you back to your cabin, and make sure you have what you need."


	4. Chapter 4

Dark trees surrounded her, their skeletal fingers reaching into a star-filled sky. Crisp winter air bit at her nose and cheeks, sending her long, dark curls fluttering around her face. A pool of moonlight bathed the small clearing in magic as the perfect blanket of snow glittered in the darkness.

She took a step, feeling the snow crunch beneath her bare feet. A filmy dress of sheer white flowed from her body, trailing behind her and creating a soft swath of markings in the fresh powder. With her next footfall, a branch snapped, sending a resounding crack echoing through the silent forest.

A long, mournful howl of a wolf came from the distance, the sounds winding through the trees to her. The animal's voice held such a profound sadness that she felt herself moving toward the noise. One wild soul called to another, and she felt her limbs moving as if she were a marionette. Inextricably drawn to the mournful call in the darkness.

Fingertips trailing across the trees as she walked, the rough bark scratched at her skin in warning as she ventured deeper and deeper into the murky moonlit wood. Another howl. Closing her eyes, she let the sound draw her forward.

A silvery shape burst out from the bushes on her left, darting past her legs. A huge, gray wolf. A second flowed past on her right, howling in answer to the first as it brushed against her legs. Then a third, and a fourth. They continued to run, crying in a haunting chorus into the shadows.

Her heart started to beat faster as a strange urgency built in her breast.

 _Follow._

Blood surging and feet pounding, she flew through the trees, her long dress and hair streaming out behind her. Branches reached out to snag at the fabric, and catch in her tresses. Tearing herself free, she darted forward as another long, mournful howl vibrated through her bones. More wolves ran past her. All of them answering the call.

Breathing in sharp gasps, her heart beat so hard it threatened to tear through her chest.

 _Just a little further._

Thick underbrush barred her way, long thorns guarding the path like sentinels. Heedless of the danger, she crashed through. Skin and fabric parted like paper, leaving streaks of angry red behind. Branches like fingers grasped her and held. Struggling, she freed herself. Blood dripped from her pierced flesh, leaving blooms of red against the white snow.

Bursting through the last of the trees, she stopped dead at the steep bank of a massive river. Water churned and dashed against the rocks, wetting her legs with the spray. The dark flood moved swiftly, carrying great chunks of ice that crashed into the rocks. Shattering. A deafening roar filled her brain.

Across the wide expanse, a massive black wolf sat watching her with six glittering, red eyes. The intensity of the stare stripped her down into her component parts, laying her soul bare and her innermost hopes and fears open for it to see. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her pale cheeks.

Two figures stood. Opposed. Shadow and light.

Watching.

Waiting.

It's great shaggy head lifting, the black wolf let out a final long howl.

Only to be answered by one of her own.

Natalie woke with a start and sat straight up in her narrow cot, a fragile dawn sending pink light through her window. Reaching up to rub the sleep from her eyes, she felt cool wetness on her cheeks. Heat crept up the back of her neck as a strangled sob clawed up her throat. The tears burst forth from her eyes as she felt the walls she had put up in her mind collapse, bit by bit. An ugly cry tore from her throat, bringing rawness with it.

Curling her knees up, she hugged them as she sobbed. Tears poured out, splashing messily over the woolen blankets. Dark stains spread on the material as her whole body shook with the force of her brittle emotions. Her despair filled up and spilled over, flowing down her face.

She wept until her face was red and blotchy. She wept until her throat was raw. She wept until she had no more tears.

As the storm passed, she pressed the heels of her palms against her throbbing eyes. A desperate attempt to relieve the building pressure behind them. Her breath came in shudders as she breathed deep and steady, trying to calm her reeling mind. Pulling the edge of her sleeve across her eyes, she wiped away what remained of the dream and the unraveling of her careful fortifications.

Turning her head to gaze miserably out at the ever-brightening sky, she knew in her heart that her being in this place was no dream. She had slept and dreamt within this world. She had felt pain. Logic couldn't explain her presence here, but beyond the impossible, somehow, is the possible.

A soft knock at the door roused her from her misery. Gathering herself, she padded across to the door to find Maryella holding a pitcher of water and a stack of clean clothes. The woman looked over her face, no doubt seeing the ravages her crying jag had caused. Lowering her eyes, Maryella handed over her burden.

"I will wait outside. If you want to freshen up, you can find me when you are ready and I will show you where you need to be." With a slight bow, she stepped away from the door.

Natalie nodded before closing the door behind her.

She quickly stripped her tear-stained robe and washed up with the pleasantly herbal scented soap Maryella had provided. She used the cool water to wash away the evidence of the morning's outpouring. Her skin felt dry and tight, stretched too thin over her bones and muscle. She felt strangely disjointed from her own body, as if viewing it from the outside. During the bath yesterday, she had not had the presence of mind to look. No bruises marred her skin. No abrasions or cuts. Other than the pink scar of the bullet wound, there was no sign of the trauma she had endured. She didn't know whether to be upset or relieved to have few reminders.

Covering herself in the clean clothing, she quickly left the cabin. Her thoughts feeling too big for the small space. Maryella waiting outside, as promised, speaking quietly to another woman. Upon seeing her, the unfamiliar face quickly left with a small curtsey.

"Wonderful. Let's go."

Maryella offered her a soft smile. Sympathy reflecting in her eyes. The sight of which stirred up the first vestiges of anger. _I don't want your pity._ Natalie swallowed the bitter feeling and simply followed.

The woman led her around the village, showing her the layout so she would be able to navigate for herself.

"Down to the right are the training grounds, as well as the blacksmith. Commander Cullen and the troops reside out there. To the right, the path leads to the Chantry, where we were yesterday. Straight ahead is the tavern and apothecary. Past that, are some of the outer fortifications and siege weapons."

They walked forward and Natalie couldn't help but look around wide-eyed. She had seen the town yesterday, but had been too distracted for a closer view. The small community was organized chaos. Soldiers and villagers alike bustled around, and goods and building materials were neatly stacked in piles around the walls.

"Mother Giselle and the healers tend to stick to the Chantry to treat the ill. The apothecary is just beside it."

They approached the same stone building they had entered yesterday. _Chantry?_ The building looked very much like a church, so she assumed that was the case. She stored the information away for later.

Gazing around, she caught sight of Haleir speaking with a familiar tall, bald figure. Solas, the elf who had been in her cabin. The one with unique talents who told Leliana she was from a different world.

As Maryella stopped her to explain to her about the quartermaster, she could feel eyes on her. Glancing over her shoulder, blue eyes locked with hers. His stare was assessing. Intense. His face betrayed none of what he was thinking. Eyebrows drew together, creating a small furrow between them, as he held her gaze. _What was his problem?_

"Miss?" A voice broke through her distracted mind.

"Oh, I apologize. I must have been distracted." Natalie shook her head, trying to clear it.

"No matter. Mother Giselle is just inside." Maryella beckoned her. Throwing one last look behind her, she followed.

Mother Giselle, as it turned out, was an enormously talented healer. Used to taking vitals and making quick assessments of patients, Natalie wasn't accustomed to the full hands-on experience. To both prescribing and administering the treatment. She felt distinctly useless the first time that one of the Chantry sisters had corrected her on how to suture properly. But their patience and humility soothed her wounded pride, and they folded her into their ranks without complaint. At least to her face.

Her busy mind picked it all up quickly, and she had been able to impart some modern medical knowledge to the other healers. Signs and symptoms that she knew indicated a particular malady, that they hadn't quite connected the dots for yet.

The scope of the war became abundantly clear to her as the injuries piled up in their clinic. Young soldiers suffering from all sorts of terrible injuries lay on the beds before her. _Fighting demons._ She had never seen anything like their wounds. Horrible blistered burns, and deep jagged lacerations.

Peripherally, she knew that the army was fighting some kind of… magical evil. Rifts in time and space that spewed demons and spirits out to attack them. Their Herald had some kind of glowing green mark in his hand that was supposed to close them and save the world. Skeptical nature demanded that she take all of the stories with a grain of salt. Social media was enough proof to her that people tended to grasp onto something and run with it, feeding it until it was far more than it was.

But magic. She had seen the magic. Her first day in the clinic, a mage healer had closed a slash in a young girl's leg within seconds. The world had narrowed to a pinpoint as she watched flesh knit together. Blackness had swallowed her, and she had woken up a few minutes later to concerned faces above her as she lay on the floor. Embarrassed, she had waved them away, dusted herself off, and gotten back to work. But she had watched fascinated as the mages worked ever since.

Thankfully, they seemed to find it amusing and one young mage, Annika, had taken to giving her books on spirit magic and herbalism. The revelations in those pages astounded her. Barriers, revivals, blasting an enemy with your mind. Potions to restore health, to make your skin tough as stone, to make you resistant to cold or fire or lightning. The fantastical knowledge cramming into her skull sometimes made her head spin, and throwing herself headlong into work had the side benefit of not giving her enough time to think. The memories of home and the attack were swallowed under the familiar weariness of long days spent on her feet.

Before she knew it, she had been in Haven for a couple of weeks. Much of that had been spent either in the clinic or locked away in her cabin, reading. The atmosphere had been relatively quiet recently. The Herald had left with Solas, Cassandra and Varric the same day she had started working in the infirmary, and everyone else had doubled down on their jobs. The army was training at a fever pitch, preparing for… whatever it was they were expecting to happen. They had a lull in the action in the infirmary for a time. It seemed no new Rifts had opened nearby, and all that needed treating was a few training injuries here and there.

Natalie sat quietly in the corner of the clinic. A book on advanced barrier spells lay open on the table in front of her as she absently twirled a stray lock of dark hair around her finger. Mother Giselle and the other healers were meeting with the Quartermaster about procuring some additional rare herbs for potion making. The day seemed destined for study rather than action.

A loud commotion kicked up near the doorway. Raised voices accompanied the sound of clanking armor as two figures entered dragging a third. Shockingly white hair hung around the injured man. She realized with a start that it was Haleir, the Herald, and carrying him were Solas and Cassandra.

Abandoning her book, she hurried over to the door.

"Quick, please, put him down here and tell me what happened."

Cassandra swung Haleir's arm from around her shoulders and they lowered him onto the cot. "We were returning from Val Royeaux when we came upon a Fade Rift. He was pinned down by a Rage demon, and took a nasty blow to his leg."

Natalie nodded to Cassandra, as she flagged down the young girl who carried their clean bandages from the laundry. "You, quick. Go and get Mother Giselle."

Attention focused on the sight before her, she inspected his thigh where a large gash split his flesh open. She could see the dirt and debris caught in the blood dried to the edges. No signs of fresh, flowing blood.

Taking in Haleir's pale but stoic face, she grimaced apologetically. "This may hurt. Here." A piece of elfroot passed into his hands, which he promptly began to chew.

After washing her hands in a nearby basin, she yanked at the cut edges of Haleir's pants to widen the hole. Pouring clean water over it, she used a fresh cloth to clean the dried blood and detritus away. Groans of pain floated to her ears as his thigh muscles clenched. As she started to go back with her cloth, he jerked his leg away.

"I know it hurts. But it needs to be cleaned properly." She stared into his pale eyes for a moment before he swallowed hard and nodded at her. Flushing the wound with clean, clear water, she carefully examined to make sure nothing was left stuck inside.

Her focus narrowed as she worked, clearing out small bits of dirt and gravel, and flushing everything again. Taking up a spool of smooth, sturdy thread and a wickedly curved needle, she looked to the two standing near.

"You may want to hold him for this part." Stern faces met her as they both took hold of Haleir, Cassandra at his shoulders and Solas at his legs, and held him down.

Slowly, she stitched the inches long gash closed. Metal and thread sliding with sickening ease through flesh. Spots of bright red blood welled up around the knots. Haleir's tendons stood out along his neck as he struggled to keep still, gasps and groans tearing from his throat. As the row of neat black stitches grew, his wound gradually closed. Before long, she double-knotted the last suture and sat back, her shoulders aching from bending over in concentration.

"All done."

Haleir looked up at her gratefully. If that emotion was for the medical treatment or the fact that she was done with it, she couldn't tell. She gave him a small smile.

Just as she reached for the elfroot salve and bandages, Mother Giselle swept in, followed by a large group of the other healers and Chantry sisters. "Herald! Let me take a look!"

Not minding the interruption, Natalie stood up to make room for the older woman. The space suddenly seemed too small for all the people standing in it. Taking advantage of the distraction caused by the new arrivals, she gratefully slipped out of the clinic, taking up a place beside the door.

Sweet fresh air filled her lungs as the winter sun warmed her face. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the wall. Suddenly, all her long days seemed to bear down on her.

"That was most impressive to watch."

The smooth voice broke through her tiredness. Solas had followed her outside, and stood not two feet away.

Natalie peered up at him with one eye open. "I just stitched a cut. It's really not that special."

"Yes, but you have exceptional focus and attention to detail. I have not had many opportunities to watch non-magical healing performed. It was… fascinating."

For the first time since meeting him, she noticed the staff strapped to his back. _He's a mage. Did he have that before?_ Feeling somewhat silly at the oversight, she rubbed a hand along the back of her neck.

"I… ah… thanks?" She felt her cheeks heating up.

He chuckled at her embarrassment, low in his throat. "You are welcome."

She felt herself overcome by curiosity about him. The other mages in the clinic were all humans. "What is your magical specialty?" She blurted, and then felt her cheeks color even more. "I mean, I've been reading up on spirit magic. We don't have any magic at all where I'm from, and I can't help but be mildly obsessed with the subject."

The look on his face was somewhat flummoxed. "I have to admit surprise at your interest."

"Please, I would genuinely like to hear about it."

"I am a rift mage, and I cultivate a special connection with the Fade itself. In dreams, I can journey deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten."

"That's amazing. You can literally watch history happen." She had never heard of anything like this before. Her brain spun with a thousand questions.

"Yes. Walking the Fade to find the remnant of a thousand year old dream does hold a certain appeal. It is not as flashy as throwing lightning, but I would not trade it for the world."

"I would absolutely love to know more about it."

Hands clasped in front of her, she smiled at him. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile in return, as he inclined his head toward her. "I would be glad to share it."

The intensity she remembered from the courtyard the day he had left returned as their eyes met for a long moment.

"Natalie!"

The sound of her name jolted her away from the wall as Annika hurried from inside the Chantry. "Mother Giselle wants to speak with you."

"Tell her I will be right here." Feet carrying her past him to the doors of the Chantry, she stopped for a moment to look up at him. "Thank you for the chat. I enjoyed it."

"Please, feel free to speak with me if you have more questions."

She laughed, eyes sparkling. "Be careful what you wish for. Goodbye, Solas."

Natalie went back into the Chantry, leaving him standing outside staring thoughtfully as she walked away.


End file.
